Mon 9 Apr, 2007 04:59 pm
A friend sent this to me. Couldn't resist posting it here. Just different perspectives on our furry roommates.
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released--and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...
Except for my cat would have added, my captors saved my life again today.....
You saved your cat's life, littlek?
What did you do?
well, aside from giving him insulin every day (twice), today he had a low blood-glucose event which Dasha handled first and I handled second.
Oops. Didn't make the connection to the diabetic cat thread. I'm assuming that Screech was dutifully grateful.
He's asleep on my lap now. Seems grateful. I think he knows he depends on me.
When Miranda was going through kidney failure, I had to hydrate her, first weekly and ultimately daily. Needle, IV bag of fluids. She never once protested, tried to get away, snarled, etc.
You're right. I think they know.
Aw, Miranda was a good kitty. Screech's sister died of pancreatic disease which was misdiagnosed. They weren't sure what was going on, but new she was dehydrated so they had me give her fluids. She hated it. After a few days of me torturing her she went into the ICU and died there. Sad, but educational.
I'm glad Miranda was understanding.
Screech knows. He came looking for me when he was getting dizzy and then sort of clung to my feet. Poor little putty tat. So scary to see him so disoriented.
Interesting, Dag. Cats are usually very stoic. I think they're instinctively geared to no show weakness--a survival mechanism. This cat must be very trusting.
BTW, If I had written the opening post, for the cat version, I wouldn't have referred to humans as captors. I would have called them servants.
That was great Roberta...
You started me off with a smile.
Glad you liked it, Chai. Makes me smile too. As Madelyn Kahn said in Blading Saddles, "It's twue, it's twue." Guess that's why it makes us smile.